


Spell It Out

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2016 [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Talks Dirty, Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 19:58:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6920941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Dean are FWB, but you want more. In the heat of the moment, you ask him how he really feels. He spells it out for you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spell It Out

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been dying to fit my favorite quote from Deadpool into a fic. I think it worked out nicely. This is nothing but pure filth. Smut for the sake of smut. This is a fill for my SPN Kink Bingo Card, orgasm denial.

Title:  Spell It Out

Square filled:  Orgasm Denial

Ship: Dean Winchester x female reader

Rating:  Explicit

Tags/Warnings: nsfw, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, explicit dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), some spanking, orgasm denial, dom!Dean

 

* * *

You knew there could never be anything more than what you had. You wanted more, but you settled for less, anything to be close to him, to feel his touch, to have him own you in every way imaginable.

That was why when your phone rang, AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night” telling you exactly who it was, you didn’t hesitate to answer. Nor did you hesitate to drop everything and follow his directions to the dive motel two towns over where he was waiting for you.

You tapped twice on the door, waited ten seconds and knocked again. The door opened, the man inside moving so quickly that you didn’t even have time to let out a startled yelp before you were plastered against the closed door, your backpack tossed aside, your jacket already half off, his fingers tangled in your hair, his mouth on yours.

“It’s about fucking time,” he growled, nipping at your lower lip. “I was beginning to think I might have to take care of myself.” His hands were on your hips, already moving beneath your clothes, his calloused fingertips scratching at the soft skin of your stomach.

You ran your hands over him, the thin layer of his worn cotton t-shirt stretched tight across the muscles on his back, heat emanating from him. You moaned, the sound swallowed by his mouth on yours.

“I love it when you moan for me, baby,” he smirked, cupping your breast in his hand, thumbing the nipple through your bra. “Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you.”

“Dean,” you gasped.

He popped open the button on your jeans and slid the zipper down. “Show me how wet you are, baby,” he murmured, his fingers pushing past the cloth barriers, dragging through the lips of your pussy. “God, you’re fucking soaked,” he moaned, his lips drifting up your jaw to your ear. He caught the lobe between his teeth, sucking it greedily. “I’m going to make you fucking scream, Y/N.”

You whimpered, your eyes rolling back in your head, your hips jutting forward, chasing Dean’s fingers, desperate for more.

“Oh, yeah, you want it, don’t you baby? Tell me how much you want it,” he ordered. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Use me,” you moaned. “Use me anyway you want. I’m fucking yours, Dean.”

“Christ, Y/N, I fucking love it when you say that,” Dean grinned. “I love touching you, kissing you, I love the feel of your mouth on my cock, this pretty pussy wrapped around me, of you moving beneath me. Do you know how much you turn me on? How bad I want to fuck you, how bad I want to make you come?”

You took a deep breath, emboldened by his words, his touch, everything about him. You had to ask, you had to know. “Tell me how you really feel about me, Dean.”

“Oh, I'm gonna fucking spell it out for you,” he growled, thrusting two of his thick fingers into your wet cunt, pumping them agonizingly slow. “By the time I’m done with you, you won’t have a doubt how I _really_ feel about you.” His fingers inside you, his mouth on your skin and the things he was saying had you totally on edge, your walls already tightening around his fingers, your body close to release.  But he abruptly pushed away from you, turned and stalked across the room to his duffel, glancing back at you, red faced and left hanging against the door.

“I want you to undress and wait on the bed for me,” he ordered.

You quickly undressed, tossing your clothes on one of the chairs in the corner. You watched as Dean stripped off his t-shirt and kicked off his boots, his jeans and boxers hitting the floor seconds later. You had to bite your lip, stopping yourself from moaning as he strode toward you, his cock jutting proudly from his body.

Dean grabbed your ankle and dragged you to the end of the bed, pushing open your thighs. “Spread those legs for me, sweetheart. You’re mine tonight.” He ran his hands up your calves and over your trembling thighs, his eyes practically devouring you, blown wide with lust. He dropped to the floor, kneeling in front of you. He dragged his tongue up your inner thigh, stopping to blow a heated breath across your wet core, drawing a moan from you. His tongue snaked out of his mouth, just brushing against the soft folds.

“I could stay here for hours,” he whispered. “Teasing.” He brushed several light kisses across your hip, his thumb grazing your clit. “Tasting.” He licked a long, slow stripe through the lips of your pussy, groaning as your taste covered his tongue. “Sucking.” The tip of his tongue stabbed lightly at your clit, circling it just before he pulled it into his mouth, sucking it between his lips, your hips shooting off the bed, grinding against his face as you bit back a breathless scream.

Dean released you, humming deep in his chest. “Oh, you fucking love that, don’t you baby? Fuck, you don’t know how hard this makes me, how stiff my cock is right now. I could spend all day between your legs.” His tongue swirled around the sensitive nub of nerves, sending shots of heat straight through you, making you squirm, before thrusting it into your warm, wet entrance, his fingers sliding through the folds, caressing you.

You were close, so close, so tightly wound you were about to snap, but Dean pulled away. Again. You groaned in protest, shooting him an irritated look.

“Get on your knees,” he ordered with one hard slap to the globe of your ass. He climbed on the bed, rolled to his back and pulled you over him, his head between your legs. He rubbed your ass, squeezing it gently, pulling you down until your were hovering just above his face. His tongue darted out, lapping at you. “Ride me, baby,” he murmured, sliding his hands up your waist and yanking you down onto him, his tongue stroking you several times before he slid it inside you.

Overwhelmed with the sensations coursing through your body, you nearly fell, catching yourself with your hands on the wall behind the bed, unable to stop yourself from grinding down on his face, the need to come now powering your every thought, your every action. You slid forward, Dean’s tongue buried inside you, his fingers holding open the lips of your pussy, that glorious mouth completely covering you, sucking, licking, tasting. You were writhing, moaning obscenely, gone, completely gone, on the cusp, about to come, Dean’s lips and tongue sinfully perfect as they worked you over. You were close, eyes squeezed shut, body ready, but then Dean pulled away, a finger replacing his tongue, holding you right on the edge.

“Mmmm, you taste so good,” he moaned. “I fucking love it when you ride me like this.” His finger swept across your g-spot, a wicked grin crossing his lips when you gasped.

“Dean, please,” you begged. “Let me come, baby, please.”

“Oh, you’re not coming until I say you can,” Dean whispered. “I’m not fucking done with you yet.” Lightning fast, he moved, flipping you to your back, his finger still inside you, still caressing, still teasing, his lips on yours, the taste of you on his tongue.

You were gasping, moaning, desire coursing through you as Dean moved down your body, kissing every inch of skin, finally stopping to take your aching breast into his mouth, the nipple hard and pebbled. He wrapped his lips around it, laving it, teasing it, your back arching as he nipped and suckled it, three fingers deep in your cunt, pushing you right up to the edge again.

“You look so fucking sexy right now,” Dean purred. “So fucking gorgeous. I want you to beg, baby. Tell me how bad you want to come. Tell me how bad you want me to fuck you so you can come.”

“Please, Dean, don’t tease me anymore,” you groaned. “I need to feel your cock inside me, I need to feel you, need you to fuck me. I want it so bad, so fucking bad. I’m so wet, fuck babe, you make me so wet, that’s all you, Dean, all you. That mouth on me, fucking me, god, it feels so fucking good. _You_ feel so good. Make me come, babe. I want to come all over your fucking huge cock. Please, please let me come.”

Dean groaned, catching your lips in his, his cock jerking against your hip, hot beads of pre-come smearing your skin. He rose to his knees, pulled your legs around his waist and lined himself up with your entrance. He sank into you, slow, just an inch at a time, holding you down so you couldn’t pull him inside you, that wicked smirk back on his face.

“Oh, I’m gonna let you come,” he growled. “I’m gonna make you come and you’ll be screaming my name when you do. I love it when I can feel those perfect walls squeezing my dick, making me come.” His huge hands wrapped around your waist and he pulled, yanking you against him, his cock filling you completely.

He held himself there, inside you, his cock twitching, his lips on your neck, against your racing pulse. He slid out ever so slowly, until there was just an inch or two inside you, his lips now sliding up your jaw to your mouth, the briefest brush of his lips to yours.

“Please,” you whimpered.

Dean slammed forward, burying himself inside you, his hips snapping forward to meet yours, his lust blown eyes staring into yours, his hands so tight on your hips that you knew it would leave marks, but you didn’t care, because he was fucking you, pounding into you over and over, unfathomable, incoherent sounds falling from your lips as he took you.

“Jesus, I love the way you sound when I fuck you,” he panted, hips thrusting, the muscles in his arms and neck taut with tension. “Touch yourself, baby, I want to see you touch yourself while I’m fucking you.”

You slipped your hand between your legs, easily finding the swollen nub of nerves, caressing it with two fingers, Dean’s cock brushing against them with every thrust, both of you now completely consumed with lust, the sensations overwhelming you.

“Come for me,” he growled, leaning over you, trapping your hand between your bodies, pressing your fingers against your clit. “I want you to come, baby.”

The orgasm you’d been denied for so long exploded through you. You came, screaming Dean’s name, your vision black, sweat breaking out all over your body, your back arching as Dean’s hips jerked, your fingers still hard against your clit, the pleasure almost too good, almost unbearable, heat pouring through you, Dean’s cock jumping and pulsing as he came, the walls of your pussy milking his orgasm from him, the pleasure so intense you nearly passed out.

When it was over, Dean collapsed to the bed beside you, his legs tangled with yours, his arm thrown over your waist, his face buried against your neck. You were both breathing heavily, heat rolling off your bodies, the sweat drying on your skin, Dean’s come painting your thighs. He was pressing tender kisses to your throat, his fingers gently caressing your skin.

“That was fucking amazing,” he whispered. “Does that answer your question?”

You’d almost forgotten you’d asked. Only Dean could let you know his true feelings without uttering the words. He was too damn good at the silent communication. “Yeah,” you giggled. “Perfectly.”

“Told you I’d spell it out for you,” he replied.

“That line’s from Deadpool,” you murmured.

“Yeah, it is,” Dean chuckled. “I fucking love that movie.”


End file.
